


bruises

by raewastaken (IWriteLove)



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter/Funhaus RPF
Genre: Choking, Coming Untouched, Daddy Kink, Deepthroating, Dirty Talk, Dom/sub, M/M, Oral Fixation, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Praise Kink, Restraints, Rimming, light pain kink, thigh fucking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-26
Updated: 2016-04-26
Packaged: 2018-06-04 13:58:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,797
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6661240
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IWriteLove/pseuds/raewastaken
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They’re at the office when Lawrence notices them</p>
            </blockquote>





	bruises

**Author's Note:**

> um.

They’re at the office when Lawrence notices them. 

Sean’s in shorts, the early spring weather peaking enough so he had to trade in his trusty blue jeans for a pair of cargos to keep comfortable outside. It’s a weird image, at first, to see him in anything but pants, but those thoughts are quickly set aside at what stares him right in the face instead. Spoole’s got his feet up on the seat of his chair, legs resting against the armrests on either side of him, giving Lawrence, and the rest of the office, a perfect view of the bruises that cover his knee bones, dull in shades of blue and red and purple, but still there, and still visible against the sheet white of his skin.

It’s no secret that Sean is a klutz, always tripping over wires or the edges of desks, or his own two feet. He’s got a collection of scrapes and skins, and even bruises, on his elbows and hands and arms from the shit he’s eaten on the rough carpet of the office time and time again. But Lawrence knows where  _ those _ came from, those particular bruises, and it gives his gut a stab of heat at the thought.

_ Spoole kneels in front of him, hands tied at his wrists behind his back and a blindfold around his eyes. His knees are resting on the hardwood flooring under him, thighs pressed together and weight shifting from one side to the other. Lawrence didn’t know if he was trying to get the weight off his knees, or if he was trying to get some kind of friction on his aching erection, but either way, he wasn’t going to complain at the sight in front of him. He moves a thumb to Spoole’s lower lip, relishes in the way he parts them and presses his tongue down just slightly on his bottom front teeth. “Are you going to be good?” Lawrence asks him, running the pad over his lip, before slipping it into his mouth slowly. Spoole nods, just once, humming softly, and Lawrence watches him, presses down on his tongue and hears his breath hit- _

“Holy shit, Spoole, what did you do to your knees?”

Lawrence jolts out of his daydreaming. He swivels his chair to the side and sees Bruce peeking over his monitor to look, as Spoole turns to face him. “Oh, I fell.” The lie falls easily off Spoole’s tongue, accentuated with a very Spoole-esque smile and a hand that moves to rub his neck. “I was in socks yesterday and slipped at the apartment. They don’t really hurt.”

If Bruce doesn’t buy it, he doesn’t show it. The concern falls from his face and he lets out a sigh. “God,” he says with a laugh, shaking his head. Spoole chuckles with him. “Graceful.”

“Isn’t he?” Lawrence chimes in, giving them a smile. Bruce looks over at him as Spoole turns in his chair to face him better, cheeks going pink already. “He had ice packs on them all night.” The last part wasn’t a lie; after everything was said and done, and Lawrence cleaned Spoole up and helped him come back down, he dug a couple of ice packs out of the back of their freezer and rested them on his bruises knees all night, just like Spoole said.

Bruce, of course, didn’t need to know that.

“Aww,” Bruce fawns slightly, anyway. “How sweet.”

Spoole’s bright red when he nods, an embarrassed smile on his face. “Y-Yeah,” he says with a nervous laugh. His eyes are still on Lawrence’s face, watching for any sign that he might spill about why his knees are actually black and blue, but Lawrence flashes him a dazzling little smile, instead, and Bruce groans behind them.

“Stop giving each other bedroom eyes, now, and get back to work.”

Sean turns back to his monitor, dropping his legs down off chair and moving them under his desk, out of view. Lawrence watches from the corner of his eyes, before returning his attention to his monitor.

 

* * *

 

It feels like a familiar wave of deja vu to have Spoole kneeling below him on the hardwood flooring, but there’s no blindfold this time, no ribbon around his wrists. One hand is resting against Lawrence’s hip, almost on the couch he was sitting on, his eyes wide and looking up at him, while he mouths and runs his tongue over one half of his dick, other hand stroking the rest. Lawrence pushes strands of Spoole’s hair around between his fingers, focused solely on watching his face and his tongue, eyes meeting every so often. “There you go,” he says gently, testing the water a bit, and sees the way Spoole’s eyelashes flutter. “There you go, baby…”

The pet name makes Spoole shiver under Lawrence’s hand, a sigh leaving his nose as he runs his tongue up to the head. “Does it feel good?” he asks softly, eyes bright up at him as he stops for a moment, something in his face shifting. “Sir?”

Lawrence had the feeling that Spoole had slipped into subspace the moment they got home from work earlier, with how compliant he had been with everything; dinner, if they ate on the couch or at the table, their plans for the weekend, even down to what they were watching on TV. They’ve been together long enough that Lawrence could tell when Spoole was being his normal laid back self, and when he was slipping into that submissive role that Lawrence brought out of him. He couldn’t pinpoint  _ when  _ Spoole had shifted into that role after they got home, but he wasn’t going to put up much of a fight over it. 

He runs his fingers through Sean’s hair, letting him feel his nails against his scalp just slightly. “It feels very good, baby,” he tells him, sees him perk up a bit under the praise. “Do you want to do this, Sean?” Spoole nods, sits back on his haunches, waits with patience in his face. “What are the safewords?”

“Green to keep going, yellow to slow down, red to stop,” he answers without hesitation in his voice, or nervousness in his face. A sense of pride bubbles in Lawrence’s chest. “I want to do this.”

He nods, relaxing back against the couch. “Okay, baby,” he says. “You know what to do.”

Lawrence has always prided himself on being a man that focused on pleasing whoever he was with. It extended to outside the bedroom, and he knew his own limits so he wasn’t draining himself to keep people happy, of course. But there was a feeling he got on seeing a person he cared about truly content. He was probably a little more selfless than he liked to give himself credit for. That being said, he never ignored the satisfaction Spoole seemed to get during sex when he was making Lawrence feel good. And there was something about  _ that _ that made Lawrence feel overjoyed. 

Now was one of those times, when Spoole’s eyes shine with that determination to please, before he’s taking Lawrence into his mouth, pressing his tongue flat against the underside of his cock and using the edge of his hand as reference for how much he could take. Lawrence let a breath escape his nose, fingers curling into Spoole’s hair as his eyes rose up to look at him. “Just like that,” he commends him softly. “Just like that, baby…”

Spoole hums around him, before he starts to slowly bob his head, slipping his eyes closed as Lawrence moves his hand to the back of his head, ruffling the short hairs there and resting his fingers against his neck. He earns a slight shiver at the touch, feels Spoole’s hand stroke whatever wasn’t in his mouth, before he flattens it against the base of Lawrence’s dick, letting more of him slide across his tongue, nose wrinkling as he swallowed around him, moaning as he did. It sends a shock up to Lawrence’s gut, makes him grip Spoole’s hair slightly.

“Careful,” he says, running his nails across the back of his neck, enjoying the feeling of Spoole’s throat around him, but not wanting him to hurt himself on accident. Spoole’s eyes open, and he looks up at him, swallowing again and trying to force the last bit of length down, before he made a sound, pulling off and coughing softly. “Are you okay?”

Spoole nods slightly, wiping at his mouth a little and looking back up at him, tears in the corners of his eyes from where he had made himself gag. His lips shine with spit, glossy and red, hands moving off of Lawrence. “L-Let me try it again…” he asks, voice rough and breathing slightly labored. “P-Please, sir. I’ll do better.”

Part of Lawrence wants to tell him no, because he didn’t want him hurting himself, and the idea of Spoole properly choking himself and throwing up mid-blowjob wasn’t arousing at all, either. But Spoole’s eyes are begging silently, pupils blown and watching his face attentively, and Lawrence just can’t say no to him when he looks like this. He runs his fingers across the underside of his jaw, resting his palms against his cheeks, cradling his face. “Okay, baby, I’ll let you try again. Take it slow. Don’t hurt yourself.”

He nods, moving close to Lawrence and starting to mouth at his dick again, making a soft sound as he did, slipping his eyes closed and running his tongue against the underside, before taking the head into his mouth. Lawrence sucks in a breath, rubbing his thumb over Spoole’s cheek bone as he watches him, mesmerized by the way his dick slowly disappears past his lips, how hot and wet it was around him. Spoole hums, bobbing his head a bit over what he had taken in already, moving his hands to Lawrence’s knees. “Slow,” he reminds him softly, still holding his head gently. Spoole makes a soft sound that has Lawrence’s toes curling, before he’s taking more into his mouth, moaning around his dick, eyes fluttering open to look up at him. “Doing so well…” he tells him softly, rubbing his cheeks. “So well, baby. You always do so well for me…”

His praises make something flash in Spoole’s eyes, something that makes him swallow around him, before he’s letting the last of Lawrence’s dick slide over his tongue and press against the back of his throat, and, fuck, Lawrence could have come right then. Spoole keeps his eyes up and on him, through the tears he can see gathering in the corners, hands tightening on his knees. He moans around Lawrence, swallowing again to keep himself from choking, and Lawrence rubs over his cheeks and down to his throat. “Oh, you look so good like this. Look at you, baby…” he tells him softly. Spoole moans again, and Lawrence sees him shift his hips. “So good, taking my cock down your throat like that… Do you like doing that, baby?” Spoole hums around him in response, exhaling from his nose and closing his eyes, lashes damp from tears. Lawrence rubs at his throat, sees the corners of his mouth twitch down, before he stops; probably still tender from last night. He moves his fingers to press in gently on his jaw muscles, instead, massaging them where he knows they had to be aching. “Think you can stay like this for a little while longer, baby?” Spoole gives an eager moan in response. “Good boy…” he murmurs, letting out his own moan when Spoole swallows around him again. “So good…”

Spoole’s fingers tighten again on Lawrence’s knees, breath leaving in huffs through his nose, eyelashes fluttering against his cheeks. Lawrence knows this won’t leave Spoole breathless like his hand around his neck would since he can still get air through his nose, but he knows it’s going to give them the same effect anyway. He already looks beyond blissful, just kneeling there with Lawrence’s cock down his throat, like there wasn’t anywhere else he belonged. Lawrence grips Spoole’s jaw a bit at the thought, and his eyes flutter open, looking up at him and moaning quietly, bobbing his head just a bit. He makes a choking sound in the back of his throat, eyes watering and face going red, before he pulled back, gasping softly and moving a hand to stroke Lawrence while he caught his breath. “W-Was that good, sir?” he asked, voice wrecked and eyes shining from the tears and his desire to please. There’s a trail of spit mixed with Lawrence’s precum that runs down his chin, but Spoole doesn’t bother with it. “D-Did I do good?”

“You did so good, baby,” Lawrence tells him softly, running his fingers against the underside of his jawbone, wiping away the mess, before resting his thumb on his chin. Spoole parts his lips a little on instinct, and he moves his thumb, rubbing it against his slick bottom lip and watching as he closes his mouth around his knuckle, eyes fluttering a bit. “You did so well for me. Tuck me back into my pants, and then we’ll take this to the bedroom, okay?”

Spoole nods, moaning around his thumb, before Lawrence pulls it from his mouth with a pop. He busies himself with tucking him back into his boxers and jeans carefully, before sitting back. “Do you want me to go wait for you in bed, sir?”

“I do. Stand and go to the bedroom. Strip, and I’ll be there in a moment.”

Spoole stands on shaky legs and Lawrence sees how tight the front of his shorts look when he turns to follow Lawrence’s order. He watches him disappear around the corner, hears the door open with a squeak, before he pushes himself off the couch, turning off the TV and tidying up the coffee table, timing himself in his head. If he waited too long, Spoole would get worried, too quick and he’d feel like he was rushing himself through this, which is something he tries not to do, if he can help it. So he counts off twenty seconds in his head, before he walks to the bedroom after Spoole, pushing the door open where it had drifted closed, and looking to his boyfriend on the bed.

He looks pretty, is the best description Lawrence can find, laying back with his head sunk into the plush pillows under him, hands curled into the sheets and lip worried between his teeth. He did what Lawrence asked of him, stripping down to nothing, his erection bright against his stomach and precum leaking onto his skin. Spoole lets out a soft sigh, squirming against the bed. “I-I did what you asked me to do,” he says softly, eyes half lidded and cheeks red, and finally, Lawrence sees the usual embarrassment Spoole had been hiding. “Sir?”

Lawrence snaps himself out of the daze he was in, moving to climb onto the bed, Spoole spreading his legs subconsciously as he did. “You did,” he tells him, moving a hand to his chest as he moves between his thighs, feels Spoole rest them against his hips. “You’ve been so good for me. Do you want a reward now?”

Spoole nods quickly. “Please, sir…”

He loops his arms under Spoole’s knees, lowering himself down to kiss the inside of his thighs, resting his legs against his shoulders. Spoole gives a soft whine from above him, nervously moving his hands into Lawrence’s hair. “You can touch me, baby,” Lawrence says against his skin, feels Spoole’s fingers tighten slightly in the strands. He lets his teeth graze over the freckles on his thighs, before he bites a mark onto the unbruised, milky white skin. Spoole jolts under him, gasping quietly and gripping his hair, legs circling Lawrence’s head. “Mm… So reactive for me,” he murmurs, hands kneading his thighs as he kisses and bites his way down and down. “Always so reactive for me, aren’t you baby? You like showing me how good I make you feel, right?”

“A-Always, sir,” Spoole says shakily, voice wobbling in his throat. “Y-You always make me feel good…”

Lawrence smirks, leaving a few more bites on his skin, before he moves his head down lower, shifts Spoole’s weight up off the bed a bit more to get a better angle. Spoole makes a noise that’s something akin to a moan, hands still wrapped tightly into Lawrence’s hair, even with the position he was in. “Color?” he asks Spoole softly, spreading his legs more. 

“Green,” is his immediate answer, Spoole’s voice cracking slightly at the end as he shivers at the feeling of Lawrence’s breath against him. “O-Oh, green…” 

That’s all he needs from him right now. Lawrence gives one final kiss to the inside of his thigh, before he dips his head down and runs his tongue over Spoole’s hole. Spoole responds with a loud gasp, one hand flying out of Lawrence’s hair and his hips shifting back ever so slightly, a moan leaving his lips when Lawrence repeats the action. It never ceases to amaze Lawrence how every time he got Spoole into bed with him, his boyfriend always acted the same way; shy, embarrassed, sometimes even nervous, even with the amount of times they’ve tried this and that, and everything in between. It was only in bed, too; Spoole was never this shy if he was just kneeling in front of him on the couch, or if he was bent over in the shower. He could only guess it had something to do with intimacy. Regardless, Lawrence finds it endearing, although he knows Spoole probably finds it annoying, to be so sensitive and pliant without any effort. There was an eagerness to be found under the surface of how Spoole was around him. It made his chest ache with tenderness.

He presses his tongue, flat and broad, against Spoole, drags it over him again and again, feels Spoole’s thighs shake against his shoulders, his hand tighten and untighten in his hair, hears his broken moans and gasps. There’s a muffle to his noises, and Lawrence suddenly has an idea where his other hand went. He pulls back and shifts to look up at Spoole, seeing the dazed look in his eyes and the bliss on his face. He’s covering his mouth, just like Lawrence thought. “Hand,” he says sternly. Spoole whines in response, moving his hand away from his mouth and shivering. “Good.”

“S-Sir…” he says, voice still rough from earlier, but still sounded full of desperation, heels of his feet pressing against his back a little. Lawrence watches his cock jolt against his stomach, precum smeared against his skin. “P-Please… I-I need you…”

Lawrence’s dick gives a jump inside his jeans at the way he sounds, the way he looks, before he moves Spoole’s legs off his shoulders and sits up straight. He pulls off his shirt and begins unbuttoning his jeans. “Grab the lube baby,” he tells Spoole, watching him move immediately. “And a condom.”

Spoole pulls out what they need while Lawrence kicks his pants off the bed with his boxers, grimacing at the wet stain on the inside of his underwear, before he returns his attention to his boyfriend. He holds out the ribbon, instead of the lube, face bright and fingers closed around the soft fabric. “C-Can you please, sir…?” he asks softly, eyes half lidded. His voice wobbles a bit with nervousness, and Lawrence wonders if he’s playing it up.

He takes it from him, nodding and leaning in to press a quick kiss to his lips. “You asked so nicely, so of course,” he says softly, and Spoole holds up his wrists on instinct, eyes a miles away as Lawrence carefully ties them together, making sure it was tight, but not too tight, finishing with a little bow. “Do you want me to tie them to the headboard?”

“N-No, sir…” Spoole answers quietly. “Unless you want to, sir.”

“No, they’re okay like that,” he tells him, running his hand through his hair, watching Spoole lean into the touch. “You’re always so polite, baby. So good for me… Give me the color baby, before we keep going.” 

Spoole melts under the touch, and the praise, eyes slipping shut slightly. “Green, sir,” he answers softly, leaning into the fingers in his hair.

Lawrence watches him, before moving his hand away. “Lay back,” he tells him, voice edging just slightly into the commanding tone that gets Spoole’s attention, but still keeping it patient and gentle. Last night had been pretty intense for both of them, and while Lawrence knew the rough, demanding stuff got Spoole off, he also knew sometimes he wanted the praise and for Lawrence to be patient and gentle. And Lawrence, really, thinks he likes the latter better sometimes. Spoole listens to him, resting back on the bed again and fidgeting with the placement of his hands, before he raises them above his head and keeps them against the pillows. “Good, baby,” he says quietly, running a hand down his side. “You look so pretty like this…” Spoole’s dick gives a jump against his stomach, body shivering under Lawrence’s touch, before he pulls his hand away. “Are you ready to keep going, then?” Spoole nods, quickly, hair ruffling against the pillows and eyes begging, so Lawrence wastes no time grabbing the bottle of lube from where it had been set down, uncapping it and squeezing some out onto his fingers. He spreads it around, trying to warm it up a little, before moving between Spoole’s legs again, looking down at him. “Ready?”

Spoole nods, breathing picking up. “P-Please, sir…” he says shakily, fists curling and uncurling above his head. “I-I want you so bad…”

God, he had gotten lucky. He moves his hand down, rubbing the pad of his middle finger over Spoole’s hole and watching him squirm, a soft gasp leaving his lips as he ruts back against the feeling. Lawrence watches, mesmerized by the way his hips move and his thighs tremble slightly, before he presses it into him, heat pooling in his gut at the moan that leaves Spoole. “There you go, baby,” he says to him softly, slowly working his finger into him and watching his face for any sign of discomfort, stilling his hand once it was all in, moving his free hand to rub side. “So good for me, so good for me baby…”

“P-Please,” he whines, fingers finding the fabric of the pillowcase and holding it tight, hips still moving back on his finger. “Please, sir, please… I-I need more.”

Lawrence shushes him softly, pumping his finger in and out of him carefully at his pleads. “Be patient, baby…” he tells him softly. Spoole moans at the feeling, legs shaking against where he was resting them on his hips. “I don’t want to hurt you. I only want to make you feel good, and I’ll make you feel good soon.” 

Spoole whimpers and nods, chest heaving with his breathes. “P-Please, make me feel good…” he begs, another moan leaving his lips when Lawrence pushes another finger in. “Y-You always make me feel s-so good, sir.”

He can’t keep the fond smile down, scissoring his fingers just a bit to stretch him carefully, still pumping them slowly. Spoole looks like he’s on the edge of falling apart, hands still tangled in the pillowcase and hair stuck to his forehead from sweat, skin bright pink and his cock still leaking against his stomach. His eyes look dazed and out of focus whenever their gazes meet, and Lawrence loves it. “Oh, you look so pretty for me, baby,” he tells him softly, accenting it with a quicker thrust of his fingers that curls Spoole’s toes into the sheets. “So pretty, all spread open for me like this… Always sensitive and eager…” He angles his fingers in a way that has Spoole’s eyes coming into focus when he realizes what Lawrence is doing, a shaky gasp leaving his lungs. “I’m going to make you feel so good, baby…”

Lawrence curls his fingers just right, rubbing over Spoole’s prostate. Spoole cries out, bucking his hips back and clenching around them, thighs trembling. “O-Oh, God, please, daddy-” he moans, before gasping sharply and moving his hands down to cover his mouth, eyes wide and cheeks red. Lawrence stops his hand, watching him as he shakes his head. “I-I didn’t mean that, I-I promise I didn’t, Lawrence, I-”

“Spoole,” he says, and Spoole’s mouth shuts. He looks on the verge of actual panic, but he visibly relaxes at the look on Lawrence’s face. Lawrence tests the water a bit, moving his fingers slightly and sees Spoole shiver. “Are you going to be a good boy for daddy?”

A series of whimpers and nods are his answer, Spoole’s hips bucking back against Lawrence’s hand again. “S-So good… I’ll be so good, daddy… Let me be good…” Lawrence has to tell himself to keep it slow, scissoring his fingers and pumping them in and out of Spoole again, watching his chest heave as he squirmed against the sheets. He lets Spoole whine and ramble out his pleads as he adds a final finger, keeps his pace the same and sees frustrated tears pricking the corners of his eyes. “D-Daddy, please, I want you so bad, I want you inside me, I want to make you feel good, too, please, please, please…”

Lawrence falters a bit, pressing his fingers against Spoole’s prostate and relishing in the cry he gives him, before he pulls his fingers from him carefully. “Okay, baby,” he assures him, moving his clean hand to brush the wetness from his eyelids away. “Okay. I’ll give you what you want, baby. Daddy will give you what you want.” Spoole melts back against the bed, eyes shimmering and cheeks dark red as Lawrence grabs the condom and opens the package, rolling it onto himself and biting back a moan. He grabs the lube again, pouring a generous amount into his hand and spreading it over his dick, looking down at Spoole as he moves his legs to Lawrence’s hips, a visible shiver going over his body. “Color,” he says softly, lining himself up and rubbing Spoole’s thighs, watching him suck in a breath, rutting back against Lawrence’s dick, instead. He holds him still and gives him a pointedly heated look that makes Spoole moan quietly. “Color, now.”

“G-Green,” he says breathlessly, circling his legs around Lawrence’s hips. “P-Please… Daddy, I want you to fuck me…”

He groans and presses forward into him, holding his waist as he did and trying not to come the moment he feels Spoole clench around him, coupled with how hot and tight he felt. Spoole gasps against his hands, having brought them back down to his mouth again, tightening his legs around Lawrence to pull him in more and squeezing his eyes shut. “Fuck, baby…” Lawrence mutters, bottoming out and resting his hips against him, thumbs rubbing over his warm skin. “You feel so good, baby boy… So hot and tight for me… Daddy’s perfect baby boy…”

Spoole inhales and makes a soft sound under the praise, eyes slowly opening and focusing on him, a whine leaving the back of his throat. “You’re so big, daddy…” he breaths, wiggling his ass on Lawrence’s dick, smirking a bit at the way he grips his waist tighter. “I-I want to make you feel good, daddy… Let me make you feel good…” He yelps as Lawrence presses his hips down into the mattress to keep him still, panting. “D-Daddy…”

“Be good baby,” Lawrence reminds him softly, slowly pulling out of him and fighting the smug grin when he gasps and grabs onto one of his arms. “Be good for me, baby boy. Be good for daddy,” he says, setting the pace of his hips slowly, letting Spoole adjust. “Daddy will make you feel so good if you are.”

“W-What if I’m not?” Spoole asks between each gulp he takes of air. His tone is curiosity, and nothing more, and his eyes shine nervously. “W-What if I’m not good, daddy?”

Lawrence presses back in, flush with him again, enjoying the little moan he gets in return and looking down at him. “I’ll punish you.” Spoole tightens around him at his words, air leaving his lungs in a huff and Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed. “Do you understand me, baby?”

He nods. “Y-Yes, daddy… I’ll be good… I want to be good for you, daddy. L-Let me be good...”

His hips start moving again, the slow pace he had gotten Spoole used to, hands running up and down his sides. Spoole’s eyes slip closed again, cock still leaking against his stomach and bobbing slightly with every movement. “So pretty…” Lawrence says softly, leaning over him and mouthing at his collarbones, accenting each push-pull-push of his hips with a gentle tug of teeth on his skin. It was Friday; any marks would fade by the time work started on Monday. Spoole gasps next to Lawrence’s ear, grinding his hips back against Lawrence’s. “You’re so perfect for me… You take daddy’s cock so well, don’t you?” he asks, pressing sloppy kisses against his neck and starting to speed up his movements a little. Spoole moans in response, words coming out choked breaths. “Mmm… Daddy’s perfect baby boy…”

Lawrence sits back and looks down at him, running his hands up his thighs and kneading the flesh there, watching him try to squeeze them together out of instinct. “C’mon,” he coaxes him gently, spreading them again and rubbing along the inside, rolling his hips a bit faster and angling his thrust to hit Spoole’s prostate. Spoole writhes against the bed, crying out and gasping, and that’s all Lawrence needs to rock forward a bit harder than before, watching Spoole. “Oh, baby boy you’re so tight… So tight around my cock…”

“D-Daddy…” he whimpers, hips moving back against Lawrence’s thrusts, face full of bliss and eyes unfocused, skin shining with sweat. He moans when his prostate is brushed again, squirming back onto him. “I-I’m gonna c-come daddy… L-Let me come, I want to c-come, I’ve been so good, daddy, please…” he begs, hands tight in the pillowcase and body pressing into the mattress with each push forward. 

“You’ve been so good, baby,” Lawrence assures him, feeling his breathing get caught in his throat as he moans. God, he wasn’t going to last much longer, either. He moved his hands to Spoole’s knees, with the pretty blotchy bruises, thrusting faster and harder into Spoole. “Come for me, baby… Come for daddy…”

Spoole struggles for air as he comes untouched over his stomach, hands gripping whatever they could find and hips stuttering unevenly against Lawrence’s, trying to chase that pleasure he felt. Lawrence digs his fingers into Spoole’s knees, watching his softening dick jolt at the pain, before he’s pulling out. “No, daddy don’t-”

“Shh, I’m not done yet,” he tells him quietly, pulling the condom off and running his hand over the mess on Spoole’s stomach, using it to slick up the inside of his thighs. Spoole squirms, heaving his breaths through his open mouth, watching Lawrence with dazed eyes. “Is this okay, baby? Can daddy use your thighs?” Spoole nods, head lolling to one side as he shivers. Lawrence pressed Spoole’s thighs together, sliding his dick between them and groaning quietly, running his fingers through Spoole’s come. He held them against Spoole’s lips, shivering when he moved his hands, holding his wrist and opening his mouth, lapping his tongue against his fingers and cleaning them off. “So good…” he moans quietly, almost at his limit. “So good, baby boy, my perfect baby boy… I’m going to make a mess over your stomach is that okay, baby? Can daddy make a mess on you?”

Spoole shivers and moans weakly around his fingers, looking up at Lawrence through half lidded eyes. “M-Make me messy, daddy…” he murmurs.

Lawrence rocks his hips and groans at the sound of skin slapping together, before he digs his fingers into his knees again, coming over his stomach and adding to the little pool of it on his skin. He thrusts shallowly a few more times, following his orgasm and panting, before letting go of Spoole’s thighs and gently settling them back down against his hips. Spoole moans around his fingers again as he pulls them out, rubbing his thumb over his bottom lip and sighing when Spoole leans his cheek into his hand. “You did so good for me, baby boy…” he says softly, rubbing his fingers against his slick skin. “So good… Will you be okay if I leave for a moment, baby? I’m going to go get something to clean you up with…”

Spoole nods, eyes slipping closed, and Lawrence thinks he deserves the rest. He leans over, pressing a kiss to his forehead and using his clean hand to brush his hair back, before he gets up off the bed carefully, quickly going to the bathroom to get a washcloth, wetting it in warm water. He walks back on shaky legs, head still buzzing from his orgasm, but he climbs into bed again, gently wiping down Spoole’s stomach, stopping when he squirms away. “What’s wrong?”

“‘S cold…” Spoole says sleepily, nose wrinkling. 

Lawrence lets a breath of a laugh out of his nose and quickly cleans his stomach, then his thighs, before setting it to the side. “Give me your wrists, babe. Let me untie them, okay?” he asks. Spoole complies, and Lawrence pulls on the end of the bow, letting the fabric flutter off Spoole’s wrists, collecting it and setting it back into the nightstand with the lube. He gently rolls him onto his side, taking his place in front of him and letting Spoole curl into his chest, arms wrapping around him lazily. Lawrence moves his hand to run down Spoole’s back, tracing nonsensical patterns into his skin and listening to him sigh and hum. “Are you feeling okay?”

“Tired,” he mutters back, face pressing into his chest. “Wanna sleep…”

He had figured Spoole would be exhausted afterward; he very rarely was awake enough after sex, so Lawrence even more rarely had to give him thorough aftercare. “We can sleep,” he says softly, moving his hand up to run fingers through his hair. “We can talk tomorrow morning. I love you, Sean.”

Spoole nods, although he’s sure by this point, he doesn’t know why he is. “Love you, too, Larr…” he mumbles, and not long after Lawrence hears him snoring. He fights back a yawn, resting his mouth against Spoole’s head and following him quickly after, falling asleep with his boyfriend curled up in his arms.

**Author's Note:**

> dont judge me. see yall in hell
> 
>  
> 
> [follow me on tumblr!](http://seanspooles.co.vu/)  
> [cross posted on tumblr](http://seanspooles.co.vu/post/143406909595/bruises)


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